


Light In Their Eyes, Blood On Their Lips

by HewerOfCaves



Series: B2MeM 2019 Stories [4]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Body Horror, Fluff, Height Differences, M/M, Post-Rescue from Thangorodrim, Thangorodrim, Triple Drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 12:07:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18052235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HewerOfCaves/pseuds/HewerOfCaves
Summary: Three 100-word Russingon drabbles.Written for Back to Middle Earth Month.The Russingon CardB7: Height DifferenceB11: ThangorodrimG54: We Hate MorgothHorror CardB11: Body Horror





	1. I Can Reach You Now

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a native speaker. The story is not beta'd.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the fluffy one.
> 
> B7: Height Difference

“Stop laughing,” Findekáno demanded. He would stomp his feet but felt he was too old for that.

Maitimo didn’t even attempt to stop. On the contrary, he laughed harder, the sound of it covering Findekáno like a silver waterfall. 

“This is what I get for trying to kiss your cheek in greeting,” he muttered. “Stop it, Maitimo! I am still growing.”

Maitimo threw his head back, still laughing. “No, you are not,” he choked out.

Findekáno stifled a gasp as he stared at Maitimo’s throat. Without thinking, he stood on tiptoes and pressed his lips to it.

Maitimo stopped laughing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go to Chapter 3 if you want to skip body horror.


	2. I'll Clench My Teeth And Scream Your Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> B11: Thangorodrim on the Russingon Card and B11: Body Horror on the Horror Card. This couldn't have been ~~better~~ worse.
> 
> Be warned. It's seriously disturbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured Maedhros wouldn't have had time to choose a Sindarin name for himself at this point, so he's Maitimo. Fingon is Fingon as he's spent a few years in Middle-earth not hanging by his wrist.

His friend looked wrong: bent back, sunken stomach, skeletal face, tangled hair. His right arm was blue, the hand – nearly black. Fungi were growing inside fetid gashes on his chest.

Fingon slashed at Maitimo’s wrist. Dark blood stained his hands. The dagger slipped out. Maitimo let out a broken sob and whispered something.

“No,” Fingon said, determined.

Maitimo screamed gutturally when Fingon snapped his wrist. The jagged bones broke the skin, stuck out like cracked gravestones. It wasn’t enough.

“Shh, my love,” Fingon murmured. 

Praying to the Valar to let Maitimo pass out, Fingon sank his teeth into the wound.


	3. Fire Within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> G54: We Hate Morgoth

“Why aren’t you angry?” Fingon asked, still pacing.

“Hmm?” Maedhros said, keeping his eyes shut.

“I just went on a long tirade about how much I hate the Black Foe. Weren’t you listening?”

“Of course I was,” Maedhros said with a smile, “I always do. You know I love your tirades. They are so rare, and this is the first one I have listened to in so long.”

“Then why aren’t you angry?” 

Maedhros opened his bruised eyes. They were burning with a painful, bright light. Fingon recoiled. The shadows in the dark room crept away. 

“I am,” Maedhros said.


End file.
